


i wanna hold your hand

by TheEagleGirl



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (1992), Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/F, cordelia cock blocks buffy because she wants buffy and doesn't realize it, denial and pining, summer lifeguarding au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:08:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23522824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEagleGirl/pseuds/TheEagleGirl
Summary: It was just like Buffy, ruining everything for her. Well, Cordy could ruin her summer right back.~Buffy and Cordelia, lifeguard AU
Relationships: Cordelia Chase/Buffy Summers
Comments: 27
Kudos: 97





	i wanna hold your hand

**Author's Note:**

  * For [burningveins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/burningveins/gifts).



> This fic is for Lola, who donated money to coronavirus relief efforts! You're the best, Lola. 
> 
> Also, getting me to write for a new fandom...your power is unparalleled.

Of all the people Cordelia thought she’d spend the most time with this summer, she has to admit—Buffy Summers had _not_ been on the list.

When they bumped into one another in the locker room on the first day of training, Buffy had done a double take and glared. “You? What are _you_ doing here, Cordelia?”

Cordy had pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head, given Buffy an unamused stare. “Ugh,” she sniffed, eyeing Buffy’s hydrant-red suit. It’s standard issue, but she’s got a sunburn already, and it clashes. “I’ve worked as a lifeguard here since I was fifteen, Buffy,” she said, and put away her sunscreen. “If anything, I should ask why _you’re_ here. I didn’t know they let fashion disasters like you into a country club, but I suppose everyone has _some_ room for charity.”

With that, Cordelia had left Buffy in her dust, sputtering in shock. It had been funny, then, to see the outrage on Buffy’s face, but secretly Cordelia had actually been annoyed. She liked her summers away from schoolmates, lazy days spent sunbathing and teaching kids to swim, flirting with the sons of business moguls who were too old for her, and who knew it, too. The money was good, but more importantly, Cordy didn’t have to be Queen Bitch in Charge all the time when she was here, because no one she knew was watching.

It was just like Buffy, ruining everything for her. Well, Cordy could ruin _her_ summer right back.

At least one person was happy to see her. Len, the pool director, grinned widely at her when she exited the locker room, “Cordelia! It’s so wonderful having you at work again.”

Cordelia gave him her sweetest, sharpest smile, and said, “It’s great to _be_ back, Len.”

  
  


“Don’t you have, like. Vampires to fight?” Cordelia asks Buffy, the first times their shifts align. “Evil demons to vanquish? Lizard creatures to drown? No?”

It’s a Monday, and the pool is empty except for a mom and her two kids. Cordelia is painting her toenails a bright blue, but she’s _bored._ Her book had been forgotten in her locker, and regretfully, Buffy will have to do for some amusement.

“They’re taking the summer off,” Buffy retorts dryly. “Something about the waves being better in Hell. I’m sure you could join them if you want, seeing as you’ve already got a reservation down there.” 

Buffy’s always fun to spar with. Her mouth is almost as fast as Cordy’s. _Almost._

“Maybe next year. Pity,” Cordelia says. “And lover boy? He couldn’t have kept you occupied for the summer?” 

She knows she’s playing with fire when Buffy tenses. “That’s over,” she says, defensive, and Cordelia rolls her eyes. It’ll never be over between the two of them, not till they’ve pined and tortured themselves over one another for another lifetime. 

_Ugh, virgins,_ she wants to say, but then remembers that having sex is what got Buffy into this whole mess. Hm. Cordelia slides her gaze away from her nails, and eyes Buffy critically. The only word that fits her is _golden,_ now that her sunburn has faded into a deep color, and her hair has lightened to a honey blonde. Even the bathing suit looks good on her, and the denim shorts she’s got on top show off her even, muscled legs. She has a little golden chain around her ankle.

Cordy can see it, suddenly. Why Angel is so obsessed with her.

“What?” Buffy asks, and crosses her arms. 

Cordy wracks her mind for something biting to say, but there’s nothing but a little dryness in her mouth. Instead, she settles for raising an eyebrow, and turning away. There, let her chew on _that._

“We are over,” Buffy insists, mistaking the silence for disbelief. “Not that I have to explain myself to _you.”_

“Then don’t,” Cordelia snaps. She stands up. It’s weird, the itch under her skin. It’s not like she didn’t realize Buffy was pretty before today. Cordy’s always known that, since Buffy’s first day at Sunnydale. She doesn’t know why seeing her in a bathing suit should be any different—it’s not even a _cute_ bathing suit. It’s a _one-piece,_ for god’s sake.

“The best thing to get over a boy,” she tells Buffy, voice dripping with saccharine condescension, “is to get under another. Maybe you’ll stop moaning about Angel then.”

Buffy’s taunting voice stops her, when she’s walking away, just for a second. “Is that what you did to get over Xander? Just get under another boy?” 

She knows that Buffy’s seen her tense. It doesn’t matter. Cordelia won’t give her the satisfaction of looking back.

  
  


Three weeks later, on an unremarkable Sunday, Cordelia has an early class to teach at the pool. It’s a busy day, and there are a lot of kids to watch over. She’s so absorbed in keeping them from drowning that she barely has a chance to look up. When it’s _finally_ over, she sees Buffy arrive out of the corner of her eye on her way to dry off, but it’s barely half a glance—Cordy has been avoiding her, though she’d never admit it. 

In the locker room, Cordelia reapplies her lipstick—red, to match her bathing suit and sunglasses—and lets down her hair. It’s been spared from most of the shrieking, splashing children, thank _god._

When she’s done, she surveys herself in the mirror. She looks good. 

Cordy doesn’t want to let the thought cross her mind, that she wants to look nice for _Buffy,_ but she thinks it anyway. 

_No,_ she tells herself. _You always look this hot. It’s not for her._

Still, it might be nice to see the envy on Buffy’s face when she walks out, perfectly done up even after being in the pool for three hours. Cordy checks her lipstick one last time before squaring her shoulders and walking out of the locker room.

She’s not sure what she was expecting—but Buffy Summers giggling and surrounded by three college boys was _not_ it.

Something cold unfurls in Cordelia’s chest when Buffy laughs, large as life, her big green eyes turned up to them. She’s so small that even seated in the lifeguard chair, they’re all taller than her. 

Before Cordelia even knows what she’s doing, her feet are carrying her across the pool and she’s in front of them.

“Hello, boys,” she says cheerily, and doesn’t even spare Buffy a glance. 

She can still feel Buffy’s glare the entire time.

  
  


She gives Ryan, the football player, her number. She doesn’t actually want him to call. She doesn’t know why she does it. Maybe...because if he had her number, he wouldn’t have Buffy’s.

Buffy explodes at her when they’re gone, and the sun has started to set. They’ve been left to clean the pool while Len and Mary put the chairs away.

“You’re _such_ an attention whore!” Buffy fumes. 

Cordelia laughs incredulously, says, “You’re just now realizing? Besides, it takes one to know one. You were _throwing_ yourself over those guys. I was just saving you from embarrassment.”

 _“You_ are the one who told me to get under a new guy! Then you sabotage me when I find guys who are interested!” Buffy argues, and jabs a finger in Cordelia’s face. Cordy wants to shove the finger away. Another part wonders what Buffy would do if she grabbed her hand instead, pulled her closer.

She shakes herself out of that...crazy thought, scoffs at Buffy’s outraged expression, and goes back to cleaning the pool. This is _Buffy._ Crazy, Vampire hunter Buffy, with the scary stakes hidden under her towel. Buffy, who can barely stammer an answer out when she’s called on during classes because she’s too busy catching up on lost sleep. Buffy, who somehow has the blessing of good legs even if she’s so damn short. Whose hair turns golden after a few weeks in the sun. Who, despite the company she keeps, has always been _slightly_ better dressed than Cordy expects. 

Okay, Cordelia concedes. She’s being unfair. Buffy’s outfits are cute, even if she looks like a slutty librarian sometimes with the plaid skirts. _She’s_ cute. Cordy might even be into the slutty librarian thing.

She’s not sure how to process that. And she does feel bad, once she’s done putting the nets away in the shed and clocked out. It’s hard getting over someone. It had been hard for Cordelia, getting over Xander, and he was just a dumb _boy._ She can’t imagine how hard it’s been for Buffy, saying goodbye to Angel—though they’ll never be through, Cordy thinks, not really, because she’s seen how obsessed they both are with one another, what _losers_ —and not ever talking about it. 

She shouldn’t have interrupted Buffy’s flirting. She sees that, even though she thinks that if the guys weren’t interested enough in her to keep talking to her when Cordy arrived, they weren’t worth it. She may not _like_ Buffy very much, but she deserves someone who pays attention to her.

Cordelia realizes that she feels guilty. She _had_ told Buffy to get over Angel. To get under someone else. Why would she have ruined it when Buffy was just following her advice?

Buffy’s on the street outside the club, when Cordelia exits in her car. Before she even thinks about it, she slows down. 

“Want a ride?” she asks. 

“I’d rather get killed by a demon,” Buffy replies, arms crossed. 

“It’s going to rain,” Cordelia tells her. “The weatherman on the radio said it when I was clocking out. And the bus only comes every ten after the hour. You just missed it.”

“I _know_ that,” Buffy snaps. She takes two steps forward, yanks Cordy’s door open. She’s almost surprised that Buffy’s slayer strength doesn’t tear it off the hinges. Her stomach does a little flip at the thought, but Cordelia decides to examine that when she’s at home. Alone. “Fine. But only because you owe me for today.” 

Cordelia rolls her eyes. “Okay, sure. Drama queen much?”

“Man eater much?” Buffy retorts. “Maybe you’re a monster in secret.”

“Ooh, scary slayer. Color me terrified.”

When Cordelia looks over, it looks like Buffy is struggling with a smile. 

“What?” Cordelia asks, just as it starts pouring. She has to turn on her windshield wipers. 

“Nothing,” Buffy says, and she’s chuckling, when Cordy looks over again. The corner of her eyes are crinkled. “It’s just that Willow and Xander have been treating me like glass since Angel left, and it’s funny that the only person who hasn’t changed is you.”

“I’ve changed plenty,” Cordelia snaps, but then Buffy just bursts out laughing. Cordelia doesn’t get what’s so funny, but she feels her lips curve into a smile anyways. 

It’s not a long drive from the country club to Buffy’s house. Cordy’s glad for the rain, though, because for a few minutes it feels like they’re alone in the world. It’s gotten dark out, and the light of the streetlamps filters through the windshield and the water in yellow patches. The silence is almost companionable. She can smell Buffy’s shampoo from here, lavender-scented. 

It’s a nice smell. Cordelia thinks she likes it a lot.

When she pulls up to the Summers’ house, Cordy expects Buffy to get out immediately. Instead, Buffy turns to her. Cordelia feels something strangely warm settle on her chest. 

“Why do we always get at each other’s throats?” Buffy asks. “I like when we get along. But you’re always, I don’t know. Competing with me, or something. For boys. Like today, I don’t understand why you have to compete with me. Why can’t we just be friends?”

There goes Cordelia’s good mood. “I wasn’t competing with _you,”_ Cordelia snaps. And then clamps her lips shut. And prays that Buffy is stupid, because the tone of Cordelia’s voice was pretty damn clear. 

_I wasn’t competing with_ you. _I was competing with_ them.

“What?” Buffy’s eyes have gone wide. Cordelia suddenly wishes the rain was louder, that it could drown out the beating of her heart in her ears. 

“Nothing,” she murmurs. “You’re home. See you at work tomorrow.”

“Wait,” Buffy says. “What does that mean?”

Cordelia forces a sneer into her voice, although she’s burning with embarrassment and would rather be anywhere but here right now. “We work at the same place, Summers. I’ll see you then. Unless Angel comes back to eat you.”

Buffy’s eyes are dark, when Cordy forces herself to glance over. The rain and the lights are playing patterns over her skin. She doesn’t know where to look. 

“Why are you bringing up Angel?” Buffy asks, quiet. She looks puzzled, like her mind is working overtime. “You’ve been bringing him up a lot, this summer. I never do.”

_Don’t figure it out. Go inside._

“Yeah, well, he broods so much that—”

“Are you jealous of him?” Buffy interrupts. “Is that why you keep bringing him up?”

“What are you _talking_ about?” Cordelia doesn’t know how she’s keeping her voice steady. “Why would I be jealous of him? That’s ridiculous.”

She sees the moment it all slides into place for Buffy. Her mouth falls open in an _oh,_ but only for a second. 

“Just go inside, Buffy,” Cordelia says aloud. She turns to the steering wheel. She’s never wanted to shrink into herself more than right now. She’s mortified. She’s going to have to quit lifeguarding. She’s going to have to _move,_ and change her name. “Let’s pretend like this very weird conversation never happened. And then we’ll pretend like this whole summer never happened when we’re back at school in a few weeks. Whatever. Just go inside.”

“Fine,” Buffy says. She doesn’t move. “Fine. I’ll— I still think you suck, Cordelia Chase.” 

Cordelia turns to her at that. “What?”

“You,” Buffy tells her, slowly. “Suck.”

And suddenly, Cordelia is _angry._ It’s a good feeling. It’s comfortable. She likes her anger, hot and steamy, because it’s suddenly like an edge that she can grip onto.

“Ha!” she laughs, just the once. “You wish you were so lucky.” She batters her eyelashes at Buffy, mocking. For her part, Buffy just sits there, staring at her. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Cordelia doesn’t mean to make it sound like a dare, but she hears it in her voice.

It surprises her, sometimes. How crazy Buffy is, when she’s challenged. How much she just chucks Cordelia’s expectations out the window. 

Buffy leans forward and plants a kiss, right on Cordelia’s mouth.

When she pulls away, Cordy has to blink several times before she can really see Buffy’s expression. 

“You call that a kiss?” Cordelia breathes. Not one to be outdone, she crosses the distance this time, and it’s slower, exploratory. Cordelia hasn’t ever really kissed a girl before—Susan Jennings in that third grade spin the bottle game hardly counted—but she thinks she likes it. Buffy’s lips are soft, softer than any boys Cordelia’s kissed, and she can taste her strawberry lip gloss. Under her hand, Buffy’s shoulder is smooth and warm, and Cordelia can’t help running her thumb across her skin, skin she’s been looking at for _weeks_ and hasn’t touched. 

“Put your chair back,” Buffy commands into Cordy’s mouth between kisses.

And, well, Cordelia can’t really say no to that, can she? Between one second and the next, she’s got a lapful of Buffy Summers squirming against her, moving close enough to settle down on Cordelia, pull her hair back against the seat.

When Buffy kisses her this time, it’s more demanding. Cordelia likes it. She _really_ likes it, if the sounds coming from her mouth are any indication. Her hands are against Buffy’s hips, and when she slips her fingers under Buffy’s shirt, she lets her, for a moment.

As suddenly as she started this, Buffy ends it, pulling off Cordelia and back into the passenger seat. They’re both panting, hard, and Cordelia feels so warm she wants to claw her shirt off. 

For a minute, they both sit there, breathing fast. Cordelia watches the rise and fall of Buffy’s chest, and wonders if she’s allowed to.

“So,” Buffy says, finally, after she’s straightened her shirt and smoothed down her hair. She smiles at Cordy, hesitant. “I’ll see you at work. Tomorrow?”

Cordelia swallows. She doesn’t know how she manages to speak. “Yes. Yes, I’ll be there. At work. In the morning. Where we both work.”

Buffy’s hand goes to the door. She hesitates, but then turns back to Cordelia. “Do you want to give me a ride?” she asks. “In the morning? At 8.”

They don’t have work till 9:30 tomorrow. Slowly, Cordy feels her senses returning, and she smiles back. “If you’re late, I’m not waiting.”

Buffy grins. Cordelia wants to kiss her again, so badly. “Yes, you will.”

 _Yes,_ Cordelia thinks, as she watches Buffy walk to her door through the rain. She touches her lips, looks back at the car right before she pulls out her keys. _I’ll wait._

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed, please consider leaving kudos/a comment!


End file.
